When I woke up, I envisioned what today’s perfect moment would be. Rather stupid when you think about it. The whole point of this exercise was to find perfect moments, not predict them. In the end, the point is rather moot. I wasn’t correct. Today’s perfect moment happened hours before, and many kilometres away from what I had anticipated.
Today’s moment is one of silence. After distributing a test to my students and after the chair squirming, throat clearing, subtle coughing, protracted knuckle cracking and inevitable sighing, a silence descended on the class.
It wasn’t an all encompassing silence. There was muted street traffic below. The ventilation system hummed, as did the projector’s fan. It wasn’t deafening silence. It was, however, silence that didn’t need to be filled. It was silence that filled a room comfortably.
I had more than an hour before I would have to start marking papers, so I did what one should do when confronted by that silence. I enjoyed it.